#graciewrites

[u-r--lovely]

“All I wanna say is the amount of emotional pain someone has to be in to turn to physical pain as a means of escape is much more severe than people realize. Selfharming in itself does not contain moral value beyond those that do not. We aren’t just sitting around wanting to do this to ourselves—you get to a point where it’s no longer a choice you have and that, that is what makes it so incredibly difficult to treat. That is why the world has to leave the judgement behind not unless you know—really fully know the immense pain one is in to do this to themselves over and over again.”

—Excerpt from My Future Memoir

[psychlohexaane]

poorly done jeremy heere (x reader kinda??) headcanons

hi tumblr, here’s my first ever post!! its jeremy heere (x reader kinda?) smut headcanons!!!!!! 

It might be a bit messy or totally OOC but i’ll get better hopefully!!!

warning tho this is realllll NSFW (and some parts are leaned more towards females,,, i’m sorry i tri ed)

(editor’s note; shoutout to my homedawg @matchbookcatchbook for being the inspiration for like 90% of these hcs love u <33)

-alright lemme start off:

-a real big tiddy guy

-fights michael on it

-“ass is better, Jeremy”

-“PEOPLE SHIT FROM THERE SHUT UP MICHAEL”

-defends his boob preference to the end, yo

-the first time you guys did the dirty y’all were probably hanging out

-sitting on his bed playing some good video game

-super smash bros melee on his lil gamecube

-it’s from his childhood and his gamecube’s one of his most prized possessions don’t @ me

-until you catch him fumbling with his hands, blushy, nervous, jittery

-he’s holding a pillow in front of his chest but, in front of his junk too

-gripping it so tight his knuckles are white

-“jere, you okay?”

-“uh- me? i-uh-shit yeah! I’m good!”

-he isn’t good

-you keep prying for him to fess up until

-“i-i haven’t jerked off this morning, okay? g-guys get random wood sometimes, don’t make fun of me for it…”

-you assure him its fine

-he’s relieved because phew FINALLY someone who will understand and not make fun of him for it

-you offer to help him take care of the little issue in his trunks

-the boy goes BEET red

-“what?! y-you don’t mean…”

-*looks both ways*

-"sex, right?”

-ohhhhhoo you mean sex

-jeremy notices you mean sex and freaks o u t

-but like, in both a nervous and excited way

-gets so excited he tries to kiss you but your teeth end up clonking together

-way 2 go jeremy

-okay so you’ll probably have to take a small lead by straddling him

-gentle neck kisses around his adam’s apple drive him BANANAS

-he’ll pick up on what to do after a bit of watching you do it

-he has shaky sweaty hands as he pulls up your shirt

-fucgkig d i e s when your shirt’s off

-what can i say, he is a tiddy guy (or chest guy if you’re a non binary/male pal!) + his first look with a real chest

-asks to take off bra/shirt and feel around

-boy is in heaven once he’s fondling you

-probably drooled once that first time he fondled you, you’d never let him live that down

-very sweet kisses all around, sof touching and warm/fluffy stuff at first

-sensual time taking off clothes, he asks permission before taking things off at first because his mama taught him to be polite

-let’s also mention the boy has Pokemon boxer shorts of Charizard

-michael has the matching Blastoise pair >:3c

-alright here’s the GOOD STUFF

-he’s a very nervous boy at first,,, i feel the first time would be stumbling and shaky

-“alright, 3 years of porno has to be good for something”

-knows quite a bit from porn, has no confidence to do any of it

-hitching breath x10000

-NEVER goes without condom

-because unprotected sex is BAD >:(

-terrible jokes about putting condoms on penises

-“wrap it before you tap it //awkward laugh”

-“jeremy I swear to god"

-the first time he’s being touched, he’s basically whining for more

-but he gives signals through bucking/squirming/squeaks

-he’s very patient tho!!! good boy

-he has to be praised the first time to know he’s doing well

-“a-are you sure this is enjoyable? i-i can stop if you want—“

-“jeremy, you’re doing great don’t worry!!”

-the boy gets all flustered and smiley and he’s just like “wow! I’m doing it!! and they’re enjoying it too!!!"

-a i love jeremy

-nervous he’s gonna come first and you’re not gonna be satisfied at the end

-he’s holding his climax in so you can finish first because “nice guys finish last, right??"

-what a polite boy!!

-aftercare is a must with jeremy, he loves post-sex cuddles

-like, you two get sum underwear on and just turn on some Marvel movie that was on

-Jeremy loves his superhero movies!!!

-he’ll get all excited for the first like 5 minutes and tell you all about it bc lets be real; he never grew out of his superhero phase no matter how hard he tries to cover it

-then he deadass falls asleep on your head with you on his lap

-he gets exhausted after doing the do

-you forgive him for drooling on your head when he wakes up

-never let him live that down either

[u-r--lovely]

Not many people talk about how embarrassing it is to be an adult with an eating disorder. Not many people talk about how shitty it feels to be obsessed with something as shallow as how you’re body looks or what you weigh—especially when at the same tome you’re also trying to stay afloat and pay bills. At this point, you know exactly what you’re doing to yourself and why you’re doing it. At this point you’ve probably spent time in treatment or therapy and everyone knows about it but you promise them, no you swear to them it’s a thing of the past. What might have been something of a bad habit you could justify as a teenager just becomes a burden. You stop being seen as dark and mysterious and interesting and become seen as sad, pathetic and even a tad immature or attention seeking. Eating disorders aren’t something you just grow out one day. They are cycles and cycles of back and forth, attempting to regress to an age that feels safer. An attempt at time travel and a one last ditch effort at controlling the terrifying future that lies ahead. It never works though thats the thing. At some point you must accept that doing the same exact behaviors you’ve done since you were 14 years old isn’t actually going to solve anything. You must see clearly that growing backwards isn’t sustainable, it isn’t worth it, and honestly? It’s just sad and weird.

—Excerpts From My Future Memoir (Gracie M.)

[u-r--lovely]

One Day Things Will Be Different and That Day is Today

I love my job. I love living in my own apartment with my room decorated how I want it to be. I love having fun playing games on my switch and listening to the music I like. I love going to virtual meetings and feeling connected, heard, and seen. I love the ways in which I’m trying to reconnect with old friends and also branching out to meeting new ones. I love that I’m stumbling around trying to date for the first time in my life, talking to people on tinder and looking for love because I see the love in myself. I cherish the ways I’ve fought to overcome my past, to become someone more than my pain. I cherish how hard I’m trying to find a purpose in my schooling and fumbling to see what my future career holds. I believe wholeheartedly that my story will be just that someday; a story. My past no longer who I am as a human but merely a tiny beam of darkness in all that creates the intensity of who I am. I find hope in the realization that after everything..I am still here breathing on this earth. No matter what comes my way, I know I get to choose what to believe in and that believing the lies of what my identity is will never do me any good.

[u-r--lovely]

For so long I thought that once I had all these material things I would all of a sudden be happy—but that’s not true. I moved out into my own apartment, have a job I love, in school for my dream career. None. None of those things can make me truly happy though. I think the sadness is just going to be there and it’s my resistant towards it that is what’s keeping me from freedom. It’s okay that I’m sad because my life doesn’t depend on it anymore. My life is okay with the sadness and the pain AND the joy. It’s either I have acceptance of everything or resistance to all things. That very simple choice is all that matters.

[u-r--lovely]

In the hospital today a very upset women said “my eating disorder I think is more of just a lifestyle for me.” She’s had her eating disorder for decades and literally has nothing else. But at least she’s thin. At least her thighs are the size of someones ankles. Right? This is why I must get better, this is why I cannot give up, because even though I have lost a lot of things to this illness...I still have so much more to lose. I don’t want this disease to become all that I have left.

[u-r--lovely]

My Story In Seven Chapters: “Underneath The Marks”

Ch.1 Flowery Sheets

Sometimes late at night I’d pretend to fall asleep on the bottom of my mom and dad’s bed just so my dad could carry me in with his strong arms and warm heart. I remember my childhood as an old movie playing on the screen of a projector dropping in and out of my consciousness. Growing up in a large family I was often overlooked, and quiet, so if you could imagine it was easy for me to feel invisible. From a young age I’ve learned to pretend, to disconnect, to venture into a world of my own. I had imaginary friends who were fairies that followed me everywhere. I hid under books, and stuffed animals as my older brother shot up heroin and older sister got drunk in the upstairs attic.Cop cars lights were a common presence in my driveway but I didn’t mind because at least my brothers and sisters would be safe from the drugs that way.  On the hard days, I remember the flowery pink sheets I kept myself in, the silhouette of my own hand comforting my soul. I remember holding my bunny tight as my mom sang me Amazing Grace as I fell asleep. I remember begging my brother Jeremy to open the bathroom door when he was shooting up Heroin one time, and the day he stole my babysitting money for drugs. Then, came the day I asked where he was and my mom freaked out because she had forgotten about him and suddenly... he was gone. Actually gone. I was twelve and didn’t know much about death (I mean what twelve year old should), but I knew that he had been sick for a really long time and that he was finally finally free and that made me happy and sad at the same time.

Ch. 2  Scratchy Beards

When my dad told me he got sick with Cancer, I sort of thought it was okay because that meant he’d be at home more. That meant he would actually make us real dinners instead of having hot pockets every night and cold burnt spaghetti. Between the ages of twelve and fifteen I filled my life with making origami, twirling, and writing songs about pretty girls, fairy dust and sunshine. I hated when my dad came to my school because he had to carry around this huge oxygen tank with plastic wires creeping out of his nose, and I pretended I didn’t know him. I still feel bad about that to this day. The most iconic thing about my dad other then him being secretly gay (which I didn’t know about until now), was his scratchy beard and large tattooed forearm. I miss his hugs most of all, maybe that’s why hugging people feels wrong at times--no one’s hugs are quite like his were. My mom and dad left for Europe to seek alternative cancer treatment the last year he was alive. This just so happened to be when my sister got sober. As she was parenting her own baby boy out of wedlock, she also was supposed to be parenting me. In a flash of an instant,  me and all my siblings gathered around his hospital bed and sang Amazing Grace to his subconscious mind through the rumbling of the machines keeping him alive. Walking out of the ICU each of us said “see you later’ because we all knew it wasn’t goodbye. I guess, not really. On the Christmas morning before tenth grade,  he had left us and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. I had told myself a few days before that if he didn’t call me beautiful one last time, then something just something was wrong with me. I knew exactly how I was going to change that.

Ch. 3 Safety Pins

I forgot to mention, that while my mom was saving my dads life in Europe I had decided to try to change my own, in the only way I knew how. I decided to stop being the good invisible quiet christian girl and become someone who was seen. At the time, I believed I just wanted to make friends, yah know..be a part of something-- but in a desperate need to distract myself from the losses I endured I had to find a way to become alive again. I self harmed for the first time at fifteen and didn’t think much of it, I thought it was cool and something other people in my friend group did. I didn’t know safety pins weren’t all that safe, I didn’t know hurting myself would become an addiction I’d struggle with for the next six years of my life. I thought that if people saw the pain on my body they could hear me asking for help. Even as I hid under long sleeves and smiles and laughter I started to feel the deeply distant darkness pull me away from myself. Even though I thought I didn’t want anyone to know about it, I felt as though I was screaming yet I wouldn’t allow any sound to come out.

Ch. 4 Porcelain Bowls

A few months after my dad died my mom ran off to Florida every weekend with her new but old boyfriend whom she had been with before my dad 30 years earlier. At the cost of losing my dad, and subsequently losing my mom, I found solace in toilet bowls and diet colas. My friends and I had sort of made a game of it, we’d talk about dieting and then talk about feeling bad for giving into the diets and then feel bad for feeling bad. What started off as a game between friends, began to become a dangerous game of Russian roulette. I remember high school as a blur of calories, cheese puffs, and washing my hands in sinks. I kissed boys that I pretended to like behind tennis courts and eventually began treatment for my eating disorder and self harm during my senior year of high school. I got better ( or so I thought), but beneath the perfect recovery girl I created, laid a deep fear of still not being seen, still not being heard.

Ch. 5 False Safety

I went to college and fell in love with a girl I didn’t pretend to love and went to therapy twice a week.This is a time in my life I like to call “False Safety” because although I felt somewhat okay, I was relying on others around me to take care of me, I never learned to do it myself. I ran around college from club to club pretending to be the recovered girl I thought I had to be, but others couldn’t see what was truly underneath. During therapy I was being seen and loved and everything felt okay... but outside of that small room I believed I was alone. I mean, I  thought things were better, and they were... yet I continued to run from the pain through self harm. I craved so much attention from my girlfriend that if I did not get to be her world, I felt I couldn’t be with her at all. I was so scared of her leaving me like my mom did, I left her before she got the chance too. Back when I was ten, I waited for hours and hours for my mom to pick me up at camp and as each car passed by  and it was not her my disappointment grew deeper. In my adulthood I learned to instead stop waiting for her--or anyone,  I decided to run away and never be found because then I wouldn’t have to face being abandoned.

Ch.6 The Pink Room

It was a month or so after the breakup and I hid behind doorways so I wouldn’t have to see her look away from me. I hid in bathrooms during panic attacks and cried into my cereal in the back of the cafeteria. My world stopped when my therapist told me she was moving (leaving me is what I heard). I had completely attached myself to her and I felt that the one person in my life that truly saw me was leaving. Leaving. People are always leaving me I thought. I decided to fill up the hole she left with alcohol in coffee cups and pills and more cuts and more fake smiles and more “recovery” articles and speaking engagements. It wasn’t enough. None of these things were ever really enough. In the week my therapist left me, I decided to get as drunk as I could and pretend to be happy and flirt with boys I didn’t know because that would make everything better right? I didn’t know the boy with black hair was seven years older than me. October 13th October 13th October 13th. I didn’t know he’d be so mean and when the drinking game got out of hand I didn’t have the capability to say yes or no. I didn’t know walking drunkenly into that pink room, he’d hurt me the way he did. It wasn’t rape, but it was terrifying, violent, awfully painful physically and emotionally.  He was a giant dog playing with a glass doll and he shattered me into a million pieces, he shattered my fake smile right off my face.

Ch. 7 Letting Love In

From October 2017 to May 2018, everything was a blur. A blur of multiple treatment programs for depression, anxiety, and the sexual assault. The Eating Disorder came back stronger and more powerful than ever and this time I was determined to run as far away as I could from that pink room and from the therapist that left me. After a week in the psych ward I thought I could get better on my own with the eating disorder, I thought that I could control my out-of-control-ness. In February 2018, I told my mom I was going to go to treatment, but would wait until Monday. Suddenly, I had a thought, an urge, a quiet voice in the back of my head telling me to go that Friday instead, which I did. I entered treatment for the millionth time and was quickly rushed to the ER for low potassium. It was late at night and no one in my family was picking up the phone. I was in an unknown ER, half asleep, half dead and I still didn’t feel sick enough. There was an IV stuck in my arm and doctors telling me my levels were life threateningly low and I still didn’t feel like I was ‘that bad’. I don’t know if I’d be alive right now, if God hadn’t told me to go that Friday. He truly saved my life. From that point on, I started listening to that quiet voice. A month or so of running from God, one suicide attempt and many family therapy sessions later I decided to go to Selah House. I finally decided to give up the demons that had become my identity. I decided to let love in again. I decided that I could only be free if I let myself be. I could only get better on God’s terms. I know now that I had to fight the ED, Depression, Self harm, PTSD, Anxiety, and Addiction with God by my side only. I know now that what went on in that pink room was not my fault, and I don’t have to be ashamed of it or put blame on myself in any way. Here at Selah is where I’ve found hope. Here, I’ve found healing. Here, I’ve found love. Love between God, others and myself. I know now that it was never actually about the food, the numbers, or the marks. I know that I have a future, a future of helping others heal in the same ways I did. A future full of laughter, crying, heartache, touch, and love. All of my life has really been what’s in between. In between moments of exhale, of tears running down my face, of dad hugs, and Real smiles. These things are all a part of my story but they are not at the core of who I really am.  My life was never meant to be a sad story because I’m not that girl anymore. I am healing, I am tough skin made of scars, I am endless nights crying and glorious mornings shining like nothing bad has ever happened. I am becoming free, becoming Real and I have so much yet to learn about the spaces in between.

[psychlohexaane]

evan hansen // first date headcanons

authors note: hey ny’all!! i’m back with another headcanons post! this one’s kind of a drabble too, so it might be a bit unorganized and a touch out of character (sorry if it is oop) also, the ask box is now open! feel free to send me an ask for a suggestion or, if you just wanna say hi, go for it!

-so y’all were in last period of class on a friday day

-you’re about to walk out when suddenly! evan scurries up to you as soon as the bell rings

-he’s picking at his cast nervously, cheeks florid red

-looking super cute!!

-“hi, uhm— (y/n). i was- i was wondering if you wanted to go on a- on a date? with me? maybeeee?”

-“of course, evan!!”

-his whole mood changes!! like!! yes!! he did it!!

-toothy smile as he asks you to go to the local wildlife refuge (which you totally agree to because god he looks so giddy at the thought of it)

-you two disembark and eventually y’all set the date for tomorrow!

-he definitely gushed about his date with you to heidi

-she’s so happy for him!

-so tomorrow comes and heidi picks you up in her car

-she drives a 96-98 honda civic probably but

-evan is STARSTRUCK once you get out of the house

-like!! he thinks you look so cute and omg!! i’m actually taking this person out on a date!

-definitely gives you a bouquet of flowers, blue and white roses from their garden! they’re so pretty!!

-now at first evan thought you and heidi wouldn’t get along well

-but there’s no worry, since you two chatted all the way in the car and evan kinda,,, awkwardly picked at his cast and zoned out

-poor guy

-after heidi drops you off, you guys start out on the trail observing wildlife n stuff

-evan looks so content and peaceful, you can’t help but smile

-you feel something brush against your hand

-its warm and shaky

-evan’s staring at his hand nearing yours as his finger’s nervously nudging your hand

-you gently lace your fingers with his

-his eyes sparkle so freaking much!!

-his smile’s so cute!!!! gosh!!

-he tells you all about the different kind of trees

-to be honest, you’re in love with all his forest expertise (booo go home)

-he’ll even show you a few birds/animals and tell you all about them

-the two of you took a lot of pictures of the nature there

-like

-a l o t

-both of y'all got a few cute pictures of you two together as well

-you even got one of evan with a butterfly on his head

-“evan,,, don’t,,,, move,,,,,,,,,”

-“why? is-is there something on my face?”

-“,,,kind of”

-he looks so nervous

-totally your background photo

-you guys eventually sit under a tree and talk about literally anything and everything

-he loves talking to you

-to the point where he stumbles over his words in excitement

-“and then-then jared said-he said, “i don’t know, are you effing crazy?”

-he’s just so comfy around you!! cute!!

-eventually you guys head home, bouquet in hand

-evan walks you to the front door, what a gentleman <3

-“i had a fun-a suuuper fun time with you (y/n), and I just- uh- want to know if you-if you maybe wanted me to maybe- like, you kno—“

-you give him a peck on the lips

-he is stunned, eyes wide and face basically radiating red

-“there you go, evan. thanks for a great time”

-you smile at him and that boy is internally G O N E

-he smiles wide and stutters a “thank you, bye!” and s p r i n t s to heidi’s car

-heidi got the kiss on camera secretly

-will put it in her little photo book of evan’s for him to see when he’s older

-evan’s literally on cloud 9 and he’s far too high up to notice

-he gushes about the date to heidi literally all that night

-a few minutes later, he sends you a text

-“Was there really something on my face that one time?”

-“yeah lol”

-and you send him the pic of the butterfly on his head

-“Oh”

-“You could have told me, at least…"